"Miss M4-" Skorpion dove behind cover, the chattering gunfire of the Ripper's weapons filling the air. The thunks and plinks of bullets hitting concrete and metal filled the air.
"I'm fine!" Tossing an empty magazine, M4 took a steadying breath. Three blinks, referencing the positions the enemy had previously occupied, and potential movements, compared to the ballistic impacts around Skorpion, the plan forming in her mind. M4 rose, efficiently planting her shots into the heads of the four Rippers even as Skorpion took out the others with a quick spray of gunfire. "We can't keep this up…" Threats eliminated, she sank back down again, doing her best to hide the shaking hands from her temporary companion.
"I can get help!" Skorpion either didn't see or ignore that, flashing a cocky grin. "Slip through where Sangvis aren't looking, and tell Griffon where you are."
"I can't stay here; they'll be coming to investigate the fighting." M4 mumbled, eyes still in the middle distance, before catching up with what Skorpion said, eyes widening in alarm. "Can you be safe?"
"I can sneak just fine." Skorpion assured her with a thumbs up, the eye-patch wearing Doll giving M4 a brief flash of M16, and a knot clenched in her chest when thinking about her sisters. "Where do you want to go?"
M4 cast her eyes over the horizon, trying to remember what she'd been told about hiding, and search and rescue. M16's lessons and stories always focused on the fighting parts, not the staying alive parts, and that left M4 struggling to find a good place to hide from a distance. Eventually she settled on the small collection of buildings towards the end of the nearby road. "There." Skorpion followed her arm, and nodded, sharply, eyes flickering with rapid blinks as she committed the location to memory.
"There should be a Commander in this Sector now, I'll find 'em and get them here, ASAP!" With a lopsided salute, the SMG Doll user saluted in a lopsided manner, and took off running into the forest again.
M4 stared at the bodies of the Sangvis units for several minutes, before shaking it off, and starting in the opposite direction. Best set a false trail first.
Her eyes couldn't help but trail off to the horizon. The faces of her teammates flashed behind her eyes. "Be safe, everyone."
-Faded Glory-
"Sir. Message from HQ. The Deputy-Director wants to speak with you in private."
Ian looked up from the map. He had been half-hearted watching the icon representing the returning helicopter while stewing on the new information, and a glance at the time revealed time got away in the process. Doubtlessly,Helian had time to assess the report and verify anything she needed by now. "Understood. When Nighthawk lands, have them resupply, and prepare to depart immediately." It would be later in the day than he wanted, but in the present situation they could not simply sit and allow Sangvis to keep moving about the area.
Ian's thoughts continued to swirl during the short walk to his office. Unknown friendly units, odd placements of destroyed Sangvis, many areas that were specifically not disturbed, and Ingram's highly deliberate execution. Groza had reported the Doll's Core lost power shortly after they picked up FAL's Echelon, removing the option of extracting valuable data from it. Combine that with what promised to be a very, very, uncomfortable conversation with his superior, and Ian cursed the name 'Persica' to the ends of the earth. He could not prove the cat-eared woman responsible for this mess, but his gut insisted that she was.
Dimming the lights as he entered his office, Ian took a moment to let his eyes adjusted, spitting a creative curse when the pounding behind his eyes didn't stop. Giving the papers on the desk a quick rearrange, providing some illusion that he'd organized. With that done, Ian circled the room twice more, before straightening his uniform, folding his hands behind his back, and accepting the incoming call.
The projectors snapped to life, Helian's image also standing before her desk wearing what Ian accepted as her traditional severe expression. "Ma'am."
"Blackwood." Helian took a minute to size him up. "You were not informed of any additional combat teams in the area because there were not additional combat teams in the specified area." Straight to the point and shattering the vain hope Ian had that there would be an easy answer. "A second report indicates the death of Ingram at the hands of another autonomous Drone."
Ian's expression stayed blank, although a bit of a twitch at the eyes gave away his feelings on the matter, along with the clipped delivery of the next words. "Having analyzed the information and images, I have since realized that something about STG-44's death did not add up." Her eyes held his, demanding the answer to the unasked question. "And yes, Ingram was attacked and surrounded by Sangvis forces near an area temporarily held by Lightning. I ordered the Echelon to refrain from interference due to limited data on the combat capabilities of the Drones, or known good methods of elimination."
Helian's expression gave away nothing about her feelings. "And thus, the risk of losses to your Echelon outweighed the small chance of saving Ingram?"
Ian grimaced. At least his boss would be a good warm up for having the argument with Groza. "While I would consider any one Doll in Griffon to be worth four or five standard Sangvis units based upon listed combat abilities, previous intelligence suggested that the enemy moved in packs of twelve to twenty-four, so additional reinforcements were likely, as well as the unknown Drone. Further, Ingram's Core seemed likely to be retrieved." Pausing in the spot he expected an interjection, Ian tried to assess Helian's thoughts from her expression, but simply listening impassively left her with the easier job of the two. However, she wasn't about to throw him off a bridge at least. "Unfortunately, one of them got a lucky shot, and damaged her Core during her flight, and it was reported to have lost power as if twenty-one minutes ago. While the solid-state internal backups appear to be intact, any short-term storage is lost, so we cannot pull out any information about her Echelon, subordinates, superiors, or mission profile."
Helian moved around her desk as he finished the new information, pausing before sitting to meet Ian's eyes. "You will send Ingram's Core to be reinstalled as soon as possible." Her expression provided no room for argument, and perhaps just the faintest hint of reproach.
"Yes, ma'am." Being ordered to do things he already intended to do seemed like a good deal.
Helian continued to assess him for a moment longer, before sitting down. "STG-44 and Ingram were both assigned to a squad led by VZ-62 Skorpion. They were assigned to a scouting operation north of your operational area." She paused for a moment, seeming to shuffle files on the computer. "At last contact, STG-44, and one other Doll were reported KIA, and no further contact is recorded following that point."
A brief mental tally of the provided information brought back to a question he'd demanded of Persica back at the start of this debacle. "And no one believed this would be important to my current assignment." Helian's expression remained precisely blank when faced with that challenge. "I do not think it is unreasonable to expect to be given all relevant information about…" He trailed off, the familiarities starting to pile up, and setting off alarms in the back of Ian's mind. "I would be correct that STG-44 died well outside of my operation area."
"You are." A few fractions of a moment too slow.
The urge to pace rose, but he wanted to see Helian's facial expression move than he needed the kinetic focus. "I see." STG died outside of Sector 9, but he found her body well south of the northern border of his operating area, with missing equipment and a blithely discarded weapon, without other significant signs of battle. The used smoke grenades and bullet casings implied a battle to be sure, but the more he thought about it, the more something felt off. "Timeframe on reported KIAs?"
She didn't check the file. "Two and a half days prior to your first contact with Persica."
"Enough time then." Helian's brow rose, something he ignored in favor of thinking out the rest of the situation. It felt rather odd, being on the receiving end of this kind of nonsense, and Ian couldn't say he enjoyed it. "I am correct there is no psych profile for any Sangvis Ferri Dolls?" That caught her off guard and answered the question by itself. "Figured. Best guess how many 'Commanders' they have?"
"At this time, no. We are aware of at least five units with some level of authority." Helian stood, moving more centrally into the frame again, on hand sliding into the pocket of her uniform. "We have relatively recent tracking data for two of these units, but the other three are not currently tracked."
Two accounted for, and she said nothing about them, so Ian could safely classify them as not a presumed threat, but that left three others. "Any of the ones without tracking data use drones?"
"SP65, 'Scarecrow'." Another immediate response, and Ian's fist clenched behind his back. "I have provided you the data that has been recovered pertaining to her." Her eyes flickered to the tablet that he used to review Kalina's reports, a wordless command to read for himself. Taking the device, Ian's brows rose further and further.
"Optimized for recon, scouting and drone control, with drones able to act and mobile network 'hotspots'. Bloody fucking-" He bit off the rest of the curse with an apologetic look. Helian just nodded to the tablet, and he continued scrolling. "That would explain why we've been seeing scattered groups on drone footage." Restarting from the top, Ian let the mental profile build, actions in the field compared directly to the files in his hands. "Scarecrow…" If he had to pick his own opponent, she would not have been his first choice, given her advanced abilities in search and retrieval, as well as apparent ability to cover a large area with her floating network control points. Worse, all the evidence pointed towards his hairbrained hypothesis being correct. "If you would indulge me in a hypothetical, ma'am?"
Her brow rose, questioning, but also just a hint of impatience. "So long as it doesn't waste my time."
Ian nodded, taking a few seconds to order his thoughts. "The Echelon Ingram belonged to fell victim to a surprise Sangvis Ferri attack, brought on by the expanding search for my current targets." Without a desire to watch his bosses reactions, he could freely pace the length of the room, and gesture as he spoke. "During that attack, STG-44 and one other Doll were killed, while Ingram and VZ-62 escaped to the south with potentially injured. The bodies of the fallen dolls were not destroyed, and tracking data for them lost at that point." He paused in the cycle for a moment, shaking off an errant consideration, watching Helian's nod. "STG-44's body displayed several irregularities, chief among them the lack of auxiliary equipment, gear, and ammunition. Lesser but equally important, the lack of signs of a battle violent enough to cause her wounds, no sign of damage caused by the weapon that killed her. Those drone blasts threw detritus a good meter or more even if they went through a Doll, but there was no such evidence at the point of her death."
Helian cut across the unfocused rambling. "Are you trying to imply that STG-44 was moved from her place of death to where you found her." She waited just long enough for the man to nod. "You are aware that what you are saying sounds insane, Blackwood? Sangvis Ferri has exhibited no ability to strategize at a low level such as that, or more broadly any major attempt at deception?"
Ian bit his lip, the words 'And the Russians weren't planning to invade Africa' dying in his throat.' "Last time someone told me that an enemy officer showed no such inclinations, and I took him at his word, half a company of tanks were sitting on the objective that I had just been assured would be free of such impediments." No less true, and equally effective at taking her off guard. "If Sangvis Ferri did not have any aptitude or ability for deception and restraint, I do not believe I would be alive right now, based on Lena's estimations of enemy forces, and evidence from my predecessors in this role."
"And you trust them?"
"I do." Stopping, Ian held his superior's gaze, neither of them backing down. "They have the military force to crush Sector 9 under the weight of numbers, even if I take a liberal estimate of how our forces stack up against theirs, either in the field or in a fortified position."
"I see." Helian broke the stare down first, huffing. "Let us take your presumption about this deception at face value then, Commander."
Nodding, Ian went to pull up the tactical map on the table he'd been standing at, only to vaguely gesture at thin air. "Scheiße." He saw Helian's expression flicker in amusement, and question, and pressed ahead. "When we did our assessment of possible locations for our target persons, we settled on three 'rings' of possible locations." Bereft of a useful prop, he could only vaguely draw half-circles in the air, and gestured roughly where he drew them. "These two were considered to be of low likelihood of locating the target, but both were highly likely to be investigated by Sangvis, if they were simply conducting a brute force sweep of the area."
Despite the ad-hoc nature of the explanation it did not seem to phaze Helian. "I will infer from your tone that no such evidence existed."
Ian heard the question, although it took his mind a moment to process it alongside all of the other things running about. "Correct. Both were where we found STG, and at a later pair of locations, one of them being the location where Ingram was killed. Further, watching them move about on drone imagery, they are operating in a fairly sophisticated search pattern. Nothing that couldn't be circumvented, but they're not just throwing bodies at this problem. They are actively trying to locate the same persons we are, and appear to have staged a fight, and the dead body of STG-44 to slow our hunt." He thought back to the destroyed enemies located by FAL's Echelon. "More specifically, they are trying to suggest they have more forces to the south than they actually do. STG was found further south, we've seen more video contacts in the south, but if STG-44's reported death is the last known contact with the target, we have overestimated her travel time."
Helian made a vague noise of understanding. "If we continue to suppose you are correct, why would they be trying too hard to keep our forces occupied in the south?"
"Given Scarecrow's profile, I would posit an attempt to divide our units to cover a wider area, allowing for easier engagement and elimination." In her position, Ian would admittedly do the same thing. The less information revealed about her capabilities the better the situation went for her, after all. "It also prevents interference in her own search operations. It's not the most complicated strategy, but I'll concede it has been effective thus far, as while I can make a few guesses, that is all they are, guesses." Ian folded his hands behind his back once more, waiting for Helian to process his conclusions.
From her pocket, Helian produced a watch, giving it a quick glance. "I notice you have been discussing Scarecrow, as if she is working alone."
"Nothing I have seen implies she isn't." Ian shrugged. "That is why I asked about their internal command structure and psych profiles. While someone like Scarecrow working with another heavy hitter is not unreasonable, I have no evidence that she is." Ian studied Helian's face for several moments, a pit settling in his chest as he reviewed the last few minutes, in the context that she had not been raising objections to his increasingly hairbrained theory. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"You do have a talent for recognizing unpleasantness coming for you." Helian flashed him a tight smile, squaring her shoulders. "Persica has provided some additional details about the operation her team was on prior to the current situation, as a result of your initial report." Holding in the rising desire to scream in rage proved surprisingly tricky. "Combat data delivered by her team prior to losing contact indicated pursuit by two Ringleaders' units. Scarecrow, who you have the data on, and SP524 Executioner, who we have no data on beyond basic specifications."
He took a breath. Another. Another. He wouldn't scream at his boss about a client. Bad form.
"Just say it, Commander."
"Does she, or does she not, understand that if she wants her Dolls alive, she needs to provide all of the information about the situation!" The pounding headache rising further and further. "I truly wish to have words with that woman."
"When this is all over, Commander, I will arrange for you to explain, in detail, how poor her choices are, provided a recording of the dressing down can be arranged." The mirth in the Deputy Director's eyes vanished just as fast as it appeared. "In light of the presence of a second Ringleader of relatively unknown abilities, I have arranged for Sector 9 to be assigned a third Combat Echelon."
A surprise, but a welcome one. "Ma'am? While I do not intend to sound ungrateful for the extra help, what changed, and what is the catch."
"You heard me, Commander." Another chirp from the tablet, doubtlessly the files for that Echelon. "The presence of multiple Ringleaders in the field, along with the increasing insistence from Persica that we retrieve M4A1, and I agree that the expectations of you are unreasonable." Apparently his last eruption gave away more than he wanted. "Yes. She has been demanding status updates at an unacceptable frequency, and is quite insistent that you are not answering her messages."
"I am leading my soldiers trying to find hers." He'd already had one minor tirade, what did one more matter at this point. "I do not have time to babysit my emails!" Ian didn't actually recall getting any emails from Persica, although he didn't really check.
"As I have informed her. Repeatedly." Helian raised a hand to cut off his rising ire. "She will likely become more insistent before long, and you have my full backing if you simply ignore her prior to mission success." He nodded, filing that away. "Your third Echelon is enroute to Sector 9, and I have provided profiles for them, along with radio contact if you wish to brief them on the situation."
"Understood." One more thing to settle. "If there is nothing else, ma'am?" Helian shook her head, and the connection closed, leaving him standing in an empty office.
-Faded Glory-
Sitting in the helicopter, Groza tried not to tap her fingers impatiently as they waited for the Commander's updated orders. Upon returning, word came down to grab any missing supplies and be ready to head out at once. Without forthcoming reasoning, they could only wait, a fact that seemed to be grating on everyone. At last, the connection established, a longer hesitation than normal preceding the words. "Nighthawk, you are cleared for takeoff. Lightning, Artemis, standby for briefing. Groza, if you could?"
"Commander." FAL's voice conveyed the question for all of them, as PP-2000 took them up. Groza extended her hand, mentally allowing the Commander to connect with the small hologram projector in her palm, immediately showing the map of the area, their previous exploration targets marked out.
"Upon conferring with the Headquarters, we agree with the assessment that STG-44's body was moved from its original location to that one." To Groza's surprise the Commander stopped, audibly huffing into the microphone. "HQ indicated that STG-44 and Ingram were attached to an Echelon under VZ-62 Skorpion, but mission details were not forthcoming."
"Because they don't exist, or for 'security' reasons?" Groza suspected it would be the latter option, but it wouldn't hurt to ask, given how unusual this situation appeared to be.
A soft laugh proved the most telling part of the answer. "In truth, I don't know. Officially, security reasons, but I don't believe that for a second."
"Maybe if we didn't sit and let Ingram get shot, we could have asked her." OTs-39 muttered, and Groza shot the SMG a look, everyone in the cabin shifting about uncomfortably. The silence on the other end made Groza realize that OTs-39 had said it over the open radio connection, and she had to make the split-second decision about supporting her subordinate or not.
"While perhaps slightly out of line, OTs-39 is not incorrect, Commander." While Groza's desire to avoid public confrontations reared its head, she agreed completely with the veiled implications. She swallowed the other words that rose in her throat, resolving once more to speak to him in private.
"And can you be sure that the group you saw was the only group of Sangvis troops? Eight Rippers is a strange unit composition and matches nothing we've seen, or anything recorded." She visualizes his head tilting to the side, left hand rising as he ticked off the opinions, not dismissive, but assured in the rightness of his feelings. "Can you say with perfect confidence that you could kill that weird Drone in one shot, SV-98? Can you be certain that Ingram's Core was not already damaged?" He let the challenge linger, and Groza could see SV-98's mouth opening to argue when the Commander kept going. "I am in the business of keeping those under my command alive, OTs-39. With an unknown enemy, and only a few combat units scattered across the map, risking Sangvis collapsing hundreds of troops on your location without the ability to extract you is tantamount to an execution."
"And ordering to sit there and," OTs-12 spluttered helplessly for a moment, "-and watch wasn't?" Everyone nodded along, from the corner of her eye, even PP-2000 was nodding in agreement.
"Let's suppose I didn't order you to hold fire." The tension rose. "You engage the enemy. All that happens is the Drone kills Ingram, you give away your location, and then what?"
"You can't know that for sure!" OTs-39 snapped.
Groza felt the shrug over the radio. "Maybe. But out of all the potential outcomes, that is by far the most likely, considering the situation. We don't have a good method of dealing with those Drones, so engaging them compounds the risks of an already risky situation."
"So, you let her die on a 'potential'." All eyes snapped to FNC, the smallest Belgian not flinching under all of the eyes, before attention left her, all of them left with nothing to do but stare at the map in front of them, without the Commander present to glare at.
For the first time, the Commander's voice rose, the start of anger there. "I let her die because it was the lowest risk decision. Everything we are doing hinges upon not having thousands of Sangivs units descend upon you, and waving a giant red flag that says, 'Griffon Dolls here, come kill them all' will do that quite handily." He cut himself off, the rising tone snuffed out in an instant. "Risking your lives on the off chance that Ingram knew something useful that wouldn't survive repair and restore procedure is an unacceptable exchange when the chance of failure is so high and the chance of return is so low." Every Doll went still. The helicopter jerked erratically in the air, and several others swore.
Groza found her voice first, unsteadily voicing the question. "What if that had been one of us?"
A grunt. "I'm not going to put you in that position." Groza wanted to believe that he said that out of confidence, but some part of her couldn't help but take it as a blithe dismissal.
Groza muttered a curse in Russian. "That doesn't answer the question, Commander." Across the cabin, FAL met her eyes, the silent 'who asks the question' flashing between them, before FAL leaned back, leaving it open for Groza to ask. "If it were one of us crawling across that field, what would you do?"
He took a few to many fractions of a second to respond in a manner a bit more clipped than she expected. "I have no intention of allowing that to happen." When he spoke again, the man sounded exhausted. "I do not trade in lives.'' She caught FAL's eyes, then SV-98's and subtly shook her head. They could argue about him being a hypocrite later. Mercifully the Commander didn't continue in that vein, shifting back to a briefing. "Data analysis has narrowed down the target zones considerably, and we have cross checked with HQ.'' The map pulsed, zooming in on a small area labeled as Miusynsk. "With some new data on when and where everyone started moving, we've narrowed down the likely destinations for the target…" A few more boxes appeared. "We've been operating on the assumption that this little search has been going on longer than it has, and positions of Sangvis forces have reinforced that impression." Pings on previous locations, and concentrations of Sangvis forces illustrated the point.
"And you are sure that your new guesses are accurate?" Ballista's eyes were narrowed on the projection.
"Yes." No hesitation, but Groza expected that. "You'll be landing about two klicks south-east of the target area, and if the primary zone is empty you'll be continuing north." The map vanished from the Hologram projector, the mental ding as the information arrived, filling in the gaps.
"There is a file here for a 'Scarecrow'."
A sigh. "That is where the bad news starts. Based upon information pulled from the archives, our problematic Drones are in fact remote units controlled by a Sangvis Ringleader, codenamed Scarecrow." A pause, offering a chance for a question, then he went on. "Currently her location is unknown, but right now, it is best to assume she is somewhere within the operational area, and should not be underestimated, regardless of what the current intelligence profiles suggest."
"I see." The hologram connection closed, and Groza let her hand fall back to her leg. Leaning into the cabin wall, Groza sighed.
She lowered her voice. "The conversation isn't over." She knew full well he heard, but no response came.
-Faded Glory-
He closed his eyes, letting the low hum of computer hardware wash out the distracting thoughts.
"You've had that argument before." Lena broke the silence this time. "About leaving someone to die." Ian kept his eyes closed, electing not to respond. Rustling fabric broke the computer hum, doubtless her turning to look at him. "Sir?"
Well, he wouldn't manage to escape the question without giving it some acknowledgement. "I heard you."
The eye roll from the drone tech verged on audible. "You planning to answer?"
"You made a statement, not a question." He looked up, meeting her eyes. To her credit, Lena didn't flinch, blue eyes frigid against his. "But to address the unasked question, yes, I've left people to die before, and no, I don't enjoy doing it."
She waved that aside, stopping just short of a dismissive eye roll. "If you did, you wouldn't be here, Commander. Griffon's hiring practices may be occasionally questionable, but I've never known the background check to miss something like that." His expression must have conveyed the question, as a quick smile flashed across her face. "I joined up early on, back when they had fewer choices about who they could hire. A few proper lunatics out of the Spetsnaz, this one Brit I refused to be in the same room as, and some others." She leaned back onto the console, crossing her legs. "Needless to say, they got stricter over time. Worst they do now is hire morons."
That brought a flicker of amusement to his lips. "Define morons."
"You ever meet one of those chucklefucks who thinks Poland should have surrendered?" He nodded, deciding not to mention punching one such person in the face. "Then you have the right idea."
"I will endeavor to live up to such high standards, as long as you understand I will look like an ass from time to time." That made her laugh.
"If all you are is an ass, Commander, then you're doing better than most." Spinning back to her desk, Lena's fingers danced over the desk. "Beats this right bastard who ran our FOBs."
That wouldn't be Griffon FOBs, that'd be back during the war. "Now you have me curious."
Ian realized he'd fallen for the trap a few seconds too late, Lena's grin only growing. "When this all dies down, we can swap stories over drinks, what do you say, Aleksander?"
The communications officer snorted. "Long as we're paying for our own drinks, because I'm sure as hell not paying for your drinks when all we get is you talking our ears off." Lena made a rude gesture, and Aleksander sighed, giving Ian a look. "I tried."
He glanced down at his left hand for a moment. "Ask again when this mess is over, and then we'll talk."
"Deal." Shaking his head at the byplay, Ian returned to the task of putting the upcoming events together in his mind. While the movement into the area where Scarecrow presumably operated would bring additional engagements, he marked the chances of meeting Scarecrow herself as low. She'd proven a surprisingly adept foe, but given her combat profile, he would need to create the confrontation himself.
"Yes. Just create a confrontation with a Sangvis command unit. Perfectly reasonable."
AN: Slightly off from a 2 week update, but this one ended up giving me more hell than expected when editing it. Also Theater came at an unreasonable time. Make sure to do Theater, SMAW is bonkers. 3 Range ATW for the win.
Reviews, questions, comments, are always appreciated, as I don't really have much more to say this week.
